


I Wanna Dance With Somebody

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, high key a dance moms au, tfw you have too many au ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 15:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: The door opens, and I forget how to breathe. His hair is pinned back, so I can see his face up close. He’s only a few feet away from me. Baz Pitch is in the same room as me. The Baz Pitch. He’s famous. An eleven year old who dances like a seventeen year old, who’s been dancing practically since before he could walk. He’s mature, he’s powerful, he’s graceful-- and the cherry on top is that he knows.





	I Wanna Dance With Somebody

**Simon**

Monday morning, I step into the dance studio with Davy and wait for the others to arrive, just like every Monday. I start my stretches while we wait, just like every Monday. I watch Davy rifle through his choreo notes and wonder what he’ll give us this week to work on, just like every Monday.

I hug Penny when she comes in, and we’re still laughing when Agatha arrives. Pretty soon, our whole team is here, ready to start the day. The kids I’ve been dancing with for years, all assembled. Just like every Monday. Completely average.

“Alright,” Davy sighs, looking over the team where we sit on the floor. “This weekend, we’re going to a big competition, and I want to do something new. Something fresh, you get it?” He snaps his fingers. “Simon, do you get it?”

I stand up straighter. “Yes, sir!”

He nods. “Well, I think what we need is chemistry. We’re mixing it up. We’re adding an element.” He gestures to the door. “The element’s name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

The door opens, and I forget how to breathe. His hair is pinned back, so I can see his face up close. He’s only a few feet away from me. Baz Pitch is in the same room as me.  _ The _ Baz Pitch. He’s famous. An eleven year old who dances like a seventeen year old, who’s been dancing practically since before he could walk. He’s mature, he’s powerful, he’s graceful-- and the cherry on top is that he knows.

“Hullo,” Baz says, and he’s looking right at me. I think I might faint.

“Now, Basilton is here to perform in a duet, and he will also be in our group number,” Davy says. I don’t understand how he can speak so easily-- isn’t he lightheaded too? “The group dance is contemporary, and it’s called ‘Seven Deadly Sins.’ I’ll be giving you each a very specific character, and I need to see your acting abilities.”

“Sir?” Agatha asks, a little red in the face. She must be intimidated by Baz too. “Who-- who will Baz’s duet partner be?”

Baz smirks at her. “You, I think.”

I think Agatha swoons a bit.

Davy smiles. (It makes me smile too, because he doesn’t smile very often.) “Basilton and Agatha will be doing a ballet-style duet entitled ‘Together.’ It’s romantic, it’s touching, and I think you’ll both enjoy it.” He gives Agatha his signature lecture look. “Agatha, you’d better not screw this up for me. Basilton is our guest, and he does not have to be here.” He glances out at the rest of us. I’ve trained myself not to flinch at his scowl. “That goes for all of you. I expect you all to firstly, respect him, and secondly, rise up to his level. I will not have sloppy dancers looking even sloppier next to a professional.”

“Yes, sir,” I say loudly. A chorus of other voices follow.

“Good.” He claps. “Then let’s get started. I want to start with the group number, so everyone line up.”

Baz struts over as we stand and chooses a place beside Agatha, who’s next to me. My chest feels tight.

Davy stands from his stool and walks up to our little row. He walks down and starts listing off sins. When he gets to me, he raises an eyebrow. “Simon. Envy. Do you know what envy means?”

I swallow. “It means-- it means you want something someone else has, sir.”

He nods. “Right. You are envious. You want. Can you tell me who I want you to be envious of in this dance?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know, sir.”

He points down the line at Baz. “You want his spot. You want his talent. And…” he shifts his finger to Agatha’s face. “You want the girl he’s won over.”

I flush, and I know it because I can see how red my face is in the studio’s mirrored walls. The other kids giggle.

“Yes, sir,” I squeak.

He nods and steps to Agatha now. “Agatha. Lust. That means all the boys want you, and you want all the boys. You are trying to impress them.”

“Okay.” At least she’s blushing too.

He walks to Baz. Davy’s smile is blinding. “Basilton. You are Pride. You will be the center of it all, because all you want is the spotlight. You’d rather be the star than help the group.”

Baz nods, expressionless.

“Okay. I need you all to stay in character. The story is important. Keep that in mind as we learn the choreo.” Davy moves to the front of the room and gets ready to teach.

Once we’re in starting positions, he walks us through the first portion of the routine, all stepping in sync.

“Alright, that’s a seven-count. On eight, Basilton, you break the pattern. You want to be seen. So everyone else takes one more step, but you are going to jump out ahead in a jeté.”

Baz’s form is flawless. Straight legs, pointed feet, high jump. Even if we were all moving with him, he’d stand out by sheer technique.

“Simon!”

I jump a little.

“You’re envious, you don’t like being shown up. You take a big step forward into a spin.”

I grit my teeth. I can’t wobble on this. Not in front of Baz.

“Good. Very clean.”

I sigh in relief.

“So that’s jeté, beat, step, spin. That’s four counts. On five, everyone steps forward together again, but Simon and Baz, walk in place. Let the others catch up to you.”

Am I being showcased in a group number? With Baz? I get plenty of special parts in group songs, of course, but this is different.

As the choreography continues, each dancer gets a short solo section, but Baz and I are clearly the ones with the biggest parts. Davy gets us to walk through it one more time with counts, then he puts on the music for a run-through.

“Agatha, don’t bend the back leg!”

“Simon, you’re sickling your foot!”

“That’s behind!”

“Make it sharper!”

It’s the longest two minutes of my life. I feel like everything is in slow motion, like my every mistake is under a magnifying glass. And Baz never misses a beat. Davy doesn’t call him out once. I wonder if he even  _ can _ mess up.

“Take five,” Davy sighs. “Get some water, and we’re running it again.”

I step out of the studio into the hallway, and Baz is already bent over to grab his water bottle.

“Uh, Baz,” I say, out of breath.

He turns, head tipped back. He doesn’t spill a drop. (I always spill about half of my water on my shirt.)

“I just… uh…” I try to smile. “I wanted to tell you that you’re a great dancer.”

He holds the bottle on his hip. “I know.”

I freeze up for a second. “Um… well… that is...”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you can communicate better in dance than in words?”

I clear my throat. “I just think that-- well, you would really help us. Our studio. And you work well with us, so-- so maybe you could join us! Like, permanently!”

He takes a step towards me. “I am a privilege, Snow. Do you know what that means?”

“I--” I step back. “Something you have to earn.”

He nods. “I don’t join teams because I am a luxury. The judges, they’re all used to seeing your sloppy little hip-hop solos, and Wellbeloves’ rushed arabesques. They know what’s coming when they hear Salisbury Dance.”

I flinch.

“Davy told you this morning he was adding an element to the mix.” He shakes his bottle in my face to drive the point home. “Well, I am the element of surprise. I am a once in a blue moon. I am rare. I am more than one of your weekly solos. And I will not be treated like one.”

He stalks off before I can think of something to say in reply. Even when he walks, he does it like he’s on stage. (He’d get a perfect score.)

There’s a price to be paid when it comes to talent like Baz’s, and in this case, the price will be dealing with his attitude.


End file.
